


art's in the detail

by harleyhearts



Series: the finnpoe alphabet (or stories in every universe) [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Artist Poe Dameron, Awkwardness, Bisexual Finn, Finn is my baby sweet honey, Fluff, Gay Poe Dameron, Getting Together, Jessika Pava is a Good Friend, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Poe Dameron, Painting, Swearing, These boys are Not smooth at all, fuck lucasfilm, i know nothing pls forgive me, i'm in no way an artist so i'm very vague with the descriptions, one ~sexy~ reference but it's incredibly vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21588106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleyhearts/pseuds/harleyhearts
Summary: Finn might just be the model Poe's been looking for.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: the finnpoe alphabet (or stories in every universe) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555894
Comments: 10
Kudos: 114





	art's in the detail

**Author's Note:**

> my notes are always a mess and way too long, so i'm gonna try and cut my bs from now on. i wrote this for a series i'm starting, which i'm really excited about. eli helped me out as always, the embarrassing story of finn's is their idea completely and i love them. glad i made this mostly coherent. wrote half of it at 1am. enjoy!

People.

On the many canvases, on the walls and scattered on the floor and on the easel in front of him, it’s all people.

It’s Poe’s favorite motif to paint.

He supposes it’s the unpredictable, unstoppable movement he finds appealing.

Or maybe he just likes to look at faces. He can look at a person’s face for hours if they’d let him.

He realises that might sound a bit weird.

Jess shrugs it off when he voices this concern to her.

She usually comes around his place in the weekends, at lunchtime, without ringing the bell, cause she’s known where he keeps the spare key ever since he moved in 4 years ago.

She laughs upon seeing him, always teasing his ‘poker painting face’, but lets him work in peace.

Poe feels her presence behind him, quietly watching the canvas.

“Someone you know?” Jess asks him today, sipping her coffee. She’s brought one for him as well, which he’ll drink in a minute, or five, he just needs to finish this first.

“I saw her in the street,” he tells her, not shifting his gaze, “So this is purely from memory. I wish I had a model.”

Now Poe’s worked with a couple of models in the past, but the problem is that he’s not that great at reaching out to people, which is why Jess might as well be his manager at this point.

She’s found models for him, god bless her, but most of them were professionals.

He’s assured Jess a million times that there’s nothing wrong with professionals, obviously.

They’re trained. Sometimes too trained for Poe’s vision, though.

He once asked this woman, an old high school friend of Jessika’s, if he remembers correctly, to think of when she was most angry in her life, and channel that.

She had looked at him like he was insane.

“You can get one. I’ve gotten you several ones.” Jess answers him. There’s a quiet snark in her voice, but it’s the same old discussion as always.

Poe finally puts the brush down, turns around to look at his best friend, “I know, I mean-” he shakes his head at himself, “Sorry.”

Jess smiles at him fondly.

“I just want something more real. Not that models aren’t real. But someone who hasn’t been trained. Someone… raw.” he explains, finishing it off with a dramatic shrug.

She crosses her arms in front of her, “So. You want someone who’s not a model. Why don’t you approach one of those people you see on the street?”

Jess takes another sip of her cup, nodding her head towards his current project, and Poe’s eyes widen.

“Are you crazy? I can’t just approach strangers.”

“I approach strangers.”

“That’s online.”

“Is there a difference?”

Poe struggles to find an argument, sighing defeatedly, smiling despite Jess’ victorious laughter.

“You’re impossible.”

“You tell me that every day.” he answers her, shaking his head at her fondly.

Jess simply nods and clicks her tongue.

Then, after a glance at her wristwatch, straightens up a tiny bit. She always does that when she wants him to go out with her.

“May I lure you out of your cave to have lunch with me?” she questions, already moving towards the door.

And as much as Poe doesn’t feel like going through crowds today, he stands up and searches for his coat. He supposes other human interaction besides his best friend will be good for him.

Jess beams, as always, claps her hands in victory, and Poe laughs at her, “It’s not like I have a choice, do I?”

“Of course you do,” she says while holding the door for him, “It’s a mere suggestion.”

“I could just order takeout, you know.”

“You always order the same. You know a varied diet is important.”

Poe raises his eyebrow at her, “Didn’t know you cared about my health so much.”

She slaps his arm half heartedly, despite being used to his teasing she still seems upset but not really, scoffs at him, “Shush! I’m paying anyway. Will you let me do something nice for you, please?”

After locking up, Poe turns to her and kisses her cheek, proceeding down the stairs, “I feel like I should be the one asking you that.”

He spots her shrugging at that statement out of the corner of his eye, checking her phone, then linking her arm in his.

“I’m choosing the place.”

“Of course.”

…

Jess had seemingly already decided on a cafe beforehand, and no matter where they went, she always knew where the best table was, even when she claimed she’d never been there.

The table she’s chosen today has perfect view of the door and who comes in, as well as a floor-to-ceiling window to look out.

“The usual?” she asks him, already half on her way to order.

He has to hold in his laugh, simply nodding, “Surprised you remember.”

Jess turns around and sticks her tongue out at him, and he returns the favor, of course.

Oh, they’re very mature.

Poe resorts to doing what he always does, people watching.

He hears his nagging voice saying he’s creepy, but he can admire people from afar, right?

The bustling is just interesting.

He sometimes wonders what’s going on in other people’s heads.

Is the woman with the baby on her lap a single mother, or is her partner on the phone? Is she going through a divorce?

What’s the bundle of teenagers joking about?

Is the cashier with an exhausted look on their face waiting for an answer to their university application?

It’s funny, how everyone’s tied up in their own thing, the whole world revolving about themselves in the moment.

Poe’s at least felt that way before, especially when he’s painting.

A bell rings, signifying the door’s opening, and he turns his head in curiosity to observe who’s coming in.

And well, let’s just say if Poe wasn’t sitting down, he would’ve stopped in his tracks.

He sees beautiful people everyday, sure.

But something about the man now inside the café isn’t like anyone he’s seen before, and he figures he has to stop himself from gaping.

This man’s breathtaking.

From Poe’s location, he can only see him in profile, but man, he’s a sucker for a jawline like his.

The man stops in his tracks for a minute, presumably looking at the menu, restlessly fiddling his hands in his jeans pockets.

He taps his foot a couple times.

His clothes hug his figure, his dark complexion complimented by an orange jacket. Though he hasn’t tucked his shirt in, Poe notices.

His eyelashes flutter, he licks his lips.

His lips are so full.

Alright, that’s enough, Poe decides, turning his gaze away and anxiously waiting for Jess’ return.

And as hoped, she returns, placing a sign with a number in front of him.

“They said it’s going to be 10 minutes, 15 at the most.” Jess tells him, flickering through a magazine Poe assumes she grabbed from the rack at the counter.

“Great.” he answers half heartedly.

Don’t look at him again, Dameron, he tells himself, and he tries incredibly hard to listen to himself.

Now Jess looks up, and she frowns, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question.”

Poe laughs it off weirdly but he already knows she’s suspicious.

He just has to look, he wishes he didn’t, but can you blame him?

The man’s at the counter ordering now, and he’s just intriguing. Poe’s not even sure he knows why, other than being the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen, of course.

Maybe it’s the colorful patches on his jacket, or the scar on his neck, or the tapping of his fingers on his leg.

Overthinking is not helpful, Poe’s brain tells him.

When Jess turns around in her chair, he knows he’s doomed.

“Oh, I just knew you would stare at someone!” she says, turning back, smirking like she just won a bet.

“Wha- I- Sh! You’re making me sound like a stalker.”

She blinks, tilts her head. She’s thinking he’s overdramatic, he can tell without her even opening her mouth.

Poe just knows that demeanor too well.

“Think he’d be a good subject to paint?” Jess questions, and he has to sigh a little, nodding, “Maybe.”

And without another word, his best friend stands up.

Oh no.

Poe can already tell where she’s headed.

…

He’s restless.

He fiddles with the paintbrushes, cleans them even though he already did that an hour ago, paces, switches out a canvas for the fifth time.

If this goes bad, it’s on Jess’ shoulders, Poe decides.

How she managed to talk him into this, he has no idea.

When she ruthlessly walked up the mystery man in the café three days ago, Poe wanted to protest louder, but remembering they were in public didn’t let him do much.

He observed her introducing herself, they shake hands, okay, great.

Jess talks. Jess points at Poe, oh god, no.

The man looks at him and he freezes on the spot like a deer in headlights.

The man nods.

Then, a polite smile. Acknowledging wave.

Okay, well, that’s not terrible. Poe waves back, of course, cause he doesn’t want to appear rude.

And when Jess returned, she did so with a phone number and a day where a paint session could take place.

Honestly, Poe doesn’t know whether to love or hate her right now.

The man from the café - Finn, his name is, it’s amazing and satisfying to get a name on that face, and Poe has to smile to himself.

He’s incredibly anxious about this.

He’s also glad Jess had the guts to talk to him. Mostly. When he’s not pissed and wishes he didn’t go out with her because he’s incredibly embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

Thing is, he can definitely approach someone when it comes to flirting, usually, but work related? Not so much.

And this doesn’t involve flirting, he reminds himself.

He’s never been this nervous before, then again, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this attracted to someone, at least in the moment, as much as to Finn.

God, he’s a wreck.

Poe’s surprised it didn’t take much convincing for someone to let a stranger paint them.

He hopes he looks trustworthy, or maybe Finn’s just as anxious as he is.

Maybe Finn won’t show up, having second thoughts, but when that came to his mind Poe hears the doorbell.

He shakes himself out of it.

Check his hair in the mirror, because, well, it can’t hurt to try, can it?

He buzzes him in when hearing a rich voice, perhaps an octave lower than his own, saying, “It’s Finn.”

Poe has to adjust his shirt for the twentieth time.

Should he have the top button fixed or not? He has no idea right now.

Suddenly, Finn appears in front of him.

Is Poe sweating?

Finn’s wearing a dark blue button up today, with constellations on it, and he’s giving Poe a smile similar to the one last time they saw each other.

“Hey! It’s Poe Dameron, right?”

Hand’s stretched out to him, he takes it in his, of course, and Jesus, is his hand that soft or is it a figment of Poe’s imagination?

“In the flesh,” he manages to say, telling himself to stop staring, otherwise this will get weird very fast. “Uhm, uh, come on in!”

Finn glances around the flat while leaving his jacket and shoes behind, stretching his arms a couple times.

Arms.

Dameron, get yourself together.

“This is a nice place.” Finn says, smile turning a bit softer than the initial, neutral one.

Poe shakes his as a reflex and Finn raises an eyebrow, “For real, I like it.”

“Oh, god! Sorry. I mean, it’s nice for the price.” he answers him, trying to find a way of standing that doesn’t look awkward, “I only cared about the location, at the time.”

The other man looks like he wants to laugh, but doesn’t.

His eyes turn to the window, the view of the bustling city life just below.

“I see what you mean.”

Poe nods. Looks down on the floor. He feels incredibly ridiculous.

“So!” he finds himself saying, voice a bit too loud for the occasion, trying to appear cheerful, “I, well, I assume Jess told you that I paint.”

Finn snickers now, nods, “She did. Told me you were in need of a model, so. Here I am.”

Poe has to nervously smile back at him, he just has to.

“I’m very grateful. I just- thank you. I didn’t want to seem weird, Jess approaches people way better than I do.” he explains, flicking a brush in his hand. “I tried to stop her, really.”

Finn shrugs.

He’s already settling in the chair Poe’s placed in front of the easel, ready to be painted.

He opted for one from the kitchen, one with the possibility of leaning back, as opposed to the stool he uses himself.

“You don’t seem weird, man, don’t worry. Not yet, anyway.” 

Finn smiles like he told a joke, Poe scoffs. God, less staring, more painting, already.

“Can I get you water, or something, before we start?”

“Nah, thanks but I’m good, really.” he replies, adding the last word as a reassurance.

“Alright.”

“Ready when you are.”

…

It’s going quite well, actually.

Poe’s afraid he’s going to jinx it, but he has to admit that, at this time.

Two hours of painting, while Finn settled into the model role, resulted in a well deserved break, he reckons.

He assured him they could schedule another time, really, he didn’t want to take up more of his time, but Finn insisted he had no other plans today.

After a mutual decision of ordering pizza, they settled in the kitchen, with a semi awkward silence, and god, how he wishes he could spout out a pickup line and everything would work out.

Poe feels unprofessional.

This is rather unprofessional, though, this ordeal.

Finn’s giving him these smiles and he wonders if he’s as nervous as himself.

It’s oddly enough when they return to work that a conversation is sparked. Poe supposes they got all the nerves out of the way until now.

Most of them, anyway.

“Could I ask something weird of you?”

Finn gives him a curious look, “Sure.”

“Tell me your most embarrassing experience ever.”

Poe looks at his work so far. He has to capture Finn’s eyes exactly right.

And the soft curves of his figure, he definitely got them, just needs a little fixing up so it’s perfectly precise.

There's something incredibly refreshing about his awkwardness, maybe that's what real is, Poe wonders.

He’s having a hard time not looking at Finn’s hands.

This man might be driving him insane.

Finn looks surprised at the request.

Poe fears this might be turn out how all these sessions go, the model is weirded out and the piece is never finished because he doesn’t get quite what he wants, but, “Promise you won’t think I’m stupid.”

He blinks a couple times at Finn’s words.

“Promise. I- I’d never think that.”

He shrugs, looking sort of nervous again, but continues, “So I’d made myself a cup of coffee, as I do every morning, but I trip over one of my plants.”

A laugh he’s seemingly struggling to hold in appears out of Finn’s mouth, and Poe can’t help but laugh as well.

“I- well, that resulted in the cup smashing. Coffee all over the floor. Somehow, I managed to land on a shard with my neck.”

Now Poe really has to laugh, but he feels bad, glad Finn’s laughing at just as much, though.

That sounds ridiculous. Not exactly what he had expected.

But he weirdly thinks back to when he first saw Finn in all of his glory, seeing the scar and wondering.

Yet another little thing to learn.

“Were your family there to see this magnificent event play out?” Poe finds himself asking, still rather surprised by it.

His model visibly cringes, “Oh, god, no, thank god. Living alone has the perk of that.”

“But nobody saw you, then?”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not embarrassing. I know it happened. I’ll never forget.”

Finn jokingly shudders at that, and fuck, there’s apparently nothing that can make him not attractive.

Poe’s quick to memorize that big smile on his face, the warmth of his laugh, sort of hiccupping, he thinks he’s got his smile done, almost.

And then, because it all seems a bit more relaxed now, Poe decides to be bold.

“Would you mind me coming closer? To sketch some facial details, that is.”

Just like before, when he thinks he might’ve screwed it up, Finn shakes his head, “Be my guest.”

He obliges.

When Poe moves away from the canvas, grabbing a sketchpad and pencil, getting up in the only slightly taller man’s space, Finn takes just that one inch closer that Poe’s surely gonna start freaking out.

Their thighs are touching.

He turns quiet, focusing on the pencil, but it’s when he has to look right up at Finn’s face every fifteen second.

Surely, Finn’s noticing his reappearing nerves by now.

Is he doing this on purpose? He can’t be, can he?

Poe wishes he knew what’s going on in this man’s brain.

Fuck him and his perfect looks and his perfect smile and his perfect voice.

“You know,” Finn’s voice sounds, and Poe blinks up at him, flicks the pencil because he doesn’t know what else to distract himself with, honestly, “Your art’s so interesting. Peculiar.”

He scoffs.

“You have to stop complimenting me, I’m not all that great.” Poe states. He really hopes he’s not blushing.

The compliments are wonderful for his ego right now, and the voice telling that, maybe, Finn’s interested in him too, but it’s also making him incredibly shy.

“I think you are,” Finn laughs, softer than before. “Faces are your thing, I’m guessing.”

Poe just has to shrug.

He wishes he could say something smart now. Interesting. Instead, he can’t help but act on his instincts, about the vibe that’s going through the room at the moment.

“Can I… Can I ask you something?”

And Finn looks at him, really looks at him for what feels like ages, until he answers, “You already did, twice.”

“I know. Okay, I need to know that I’m not taking this out of proportion, alright?”

He nods. His smile seems ever the more encouraging.

Finn’s knee graces his, goddammit.

“You live alone?”

“Yes.”

“But you have a partner?”

“No.”

“So you’re single?”

“Yes.”

“You’re straight?”

“Bisexual.”

Poe has to stop for a moment.

It’s his turn to look at the other man for God knows how long. Well, he expected a yes there, but this is way more than he could hope for.

This doesn’t mean he’s interested, of course, surely, he’s not, but Poe can’t quit now, can he?

“Do you actually like my art?”

“Of course I do.”

“Really?”

“I don’t lie to people I like, Poe.”

Oh my god, the voice in his mind has to shut up now.

Poe feels like there’s been an explosion. Poe Dameron no longer computes.

There’s no signs of it being a surreal practical joke on Finn’s face, in fact, he looks down in his lap.

He’s blushing.

“Shit. I mean, that doesn’t sound very smooth, I’m sorry.” he laughs at himself, scratching his neck.

When did Poe’s flat get so fucking hot? He can’t breathe in here.  
He fiddles with the paper pad.

What’s he supposed to do now, then?

Poe never thought he would feel like the lead in one of those romantic films, ever, in his life.

Not in his cards by a long shot.

But, apparently, he thought wrong.

“You like me?”

“Yes.”

“You found me attractive when you first saw me?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you agreed to this?”

“I-,” Finn seems so nervous now, not knowing what to do with his hands, but still keeping his legs almost entangled with Poe’s at this point, “Yeah.”

So he shuts his mouth.

Poe just has to nod. Standing up, moving back to the easel, discarding the materials nearby.

And Finn’s up like lightning, doesn’t move closer, but staggers through, “Fuck, I, sorry, this is- I probably made this so awkward.”

God, he’s so pretty.

He’s the prettiest person Poe’s ever laid eyes on.

Bless Jess and her ruthlessness, she deserves a drink next time she comes around, he decides.

“No, it’s getting late, natural lighting’s leaving. Fitting time to stop.”

Finn almost has the look of someone on the edge of a breakdown, he’s swearing at himself, apologising, but Poe interrupts him once more, “It’s a fitting time for you to take me out for dinner.”

He looks at him with big eyes.

God, Finn can take him right now and ruin him if he wants to, Poe doesn’t care anymore.

“If you like, that is.” he adds for good measure, because at this point Finn seems just as confused with all of this as himself.

Finn almost immediately calms down again.

He looks incredibly soft right now.

That smile, fuck, Poe needs fifty years in order to capture that perfectly, he reckons.

“Sounds perfect.”


End file.
